


the six basic love styles

by izayas



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Love/Hate, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayas/pseuds/izayas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>heiwajima shizuo loves orihara izaya in six different kinds of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the six basic love styles

**pragma:** _love that is driven by the head, not the heart._

“the strongest man of ikebukuro”

is what most people think upon hearing the name “heiwajima shizuo.”

they think brute force and violence; when the name “heiwajima shizuo” is brought up, so are thoughts of the physical nature of his personality. but that’s half the story; really, that’s not _even_ half the story. heiwajima shizuo is more than ripped up signs, thrown vending machines, super glue in pencil wounds; heiwajima shizuo is more than what he hates, his anger, his temper.

for one thing, heiwajima shizuo is a chess player.

a chess player who is skilled enough that orihara izaya agrees to a game, takes out his wooden chessboard and pieces, set them down on the coffee table and offers shizuo a seat on his italian leather sofa.

izaya is black.

shizuo is white.

no one expects heiwajima shizuo to play chess, _much less_ with orihara izaya himself. orihara izaya is smart; orihara izaya, people expect, rightly so, is good at chess. orihara izaya even makes up his own game, something more twisted, something a culmination, something only he truly understands. because orihara izaya is smart.

the way people think “strength” when it comes to heiwajima shizuo, they think “intelligence” when it comes to orihara izaya.

but heiwajima shizuo and orihara izaya are not as polar opposite as the people of ikebukuro think.

izaya looks almost as he always does, shizuo thinks when he steals a glance. he looks carefree, has a trace of a smirk; an arm drapes over the couch, hinged at his elbow. his fingers hold a white pawn and it slips, rolls, dances between his long, long spidery fingers. izaya’s little taunts have grown fewer and further in between; he’s almost entirely silent except soft ‘my my…’s under his breath after shizuo’s move.

heiwajima shizuo understands, in theory, what a relationship should be like. he isn’t sure if this, _this_ is a relationship or izaya passing time, but he knows what a _normal_ relationship between _normal_ people is. it includes common goals and working towards them, a realistic and practical approach. a relationship that isn’t only about sex and emotion, but also holds logic behind it, thinks about a future. compromise. give and take. honesty. trust. common ground.

shizuo and izaya have very, very little in common.

_“checkmate.”_

the word hangs in the balance between the two of them and it’s so silent in the apartment that either could insist it echoed.

heiwajima shizuo knows that orihara izaya finds it rather hard to be intellectually challenged. orihara izaya is a very intelligent and very arrogant man; people could argue his intentions with that prowess, but no one will say that he is stupid. it isn’t everyday that orihara izaya meets someone who can keep up with him; not understand—god, no—but keep up. someone orihara izaya doesn't have to _slow down_ for, _explain_. someone who doesn't necessarily understand or accept, but someone who _knows what he's talking about._ whether or not they agree.

(shizuo and izaya have very, very little in common.)

and shizuo understands, in theory, what a relationship should be like.

a _normal_ relationship between _normal_ people.

but he’s hardly normal and izaya isn’t either. and so those standards don’t quite apply. for people like heiwajima shizuo and orihara izaya, their lack of normalcy absolves the hope of a _normal_ relationship between _normal_ people.

shizuo knows what orihara izaya seeks if he is to be with someone:

the ability to keep up with him intellectually.

red eyes look up to him and izaya’s lips ghost into a smirk as shizuo’s pawn ceases twirling and he holds it over to the chessboard, offering it back to him. calloused hands reach out and take it; shizuo’s skin is fairer and darker, compared to izaya’s smooth complexion.

it’s quiet. it’s very, very quiet. orihara izaya’s played many games of chess throughout his life. he looks up and smirks; clearly, shizuo thinks, he’s pleased.

orihara izaya _loves_ challenges.

“well done, shizu-chan.”

 **mania:** _obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive and often jealous lovers._

no one ever says love is easy.

shizuo storms out one night because orihara izaya is so _goddamn_ frustrating. the man doesn’t listen to anyone but himself; once something’s in his head, it lodges in there, takes root and grows. and shizuo cannot get past those _goddamn_ vines, leaves, whatever the hell izaya’s growing in his head, probably fertilized with shizuo's annoyance and people's misery. shizuo doesn’t know. shizuo gives up.

he storms out and the door slams shut so hard the apartment rattles. there’s a splintering sound and shizuo knows that he’ll probably have to pay for that (orihara izaya has money but he’s rather stingy with it and won’t pay for someone else’s temper.) he walks out because izaya is _infuriating_ and he can’t take it, not tonight.

these are the times when izaya drives him absolutely _mad._

shizuo can’t wrap his head around it; izaya is izaya. sometimes, izaya is too izaya. izaya is arrogant and manipulative, selfish and greedy. izaya is prideful and izaya is unbending.

izaya is tactless.

izaya is blunt.

but izaya is _his._

izaya is his, the way shizuo labeled pudding cups. izaya is his, the way shizuo frowned in high school at someone else in _his_ unassigned seat. izaya is his, the way shizuo decides that something is his and expects everyone to know it.

izaya is his and only stupid people don’t know it.

izaya is his, and izaya knows it.

izaya is his, and izaya likes to act like he isn’t.

shizuo sees him a few days later; he’s on the job with tom and they’re nearly done for the day when they pass by the park. a fur trim coat and just the fact that he’s izaya makes it hard for shizuo to miss him. tom teases shizuo has an izaya-radar. shizuo grunts.

but izaya’s standing with someone, probably a tourist. she’s pretty, shizuo thinks, she looks to be in her mid, maybe late twenties, perhaps even early thirties but ages well. she smiles and she giggles, she even blushes and shizuo cannot _believe_ izaya allows the woman to touch his arm. her fingers run against the fine fabric of his coat, the coat that shizuo swears izaya would go to great lengths to protect-- _"god," shizuo's said, "it's just a fuckin' coat!"_ and _"shizu-chan doesn't understand!"--_ the coat that even shizuo himself wasn't allowed to be near.

izaya can be incredibly charming when he chooses to.

shizuo is disgusted that izaya looks over, catches his eye, and _smirks_ with that damn twinkle in his eye. he walks off promptly because he’s working and he’s pissed. tom’s exasperated, doesn’t even lecture shizuo when he’s throwing people left and right. it helps calm him, supposedly. odd, that _violence_ is supposed to _calm_ him.

(shizuo and izaya are both paradoxes and oxymorons.)

beating up low lives for the rest of the day isn’t enough and izaya is hardly surprised when shizuo shows up that night, bangs on the door. izaya’s perfectly timed it so that he simply turns the knob and shizuo’s next pound lets it swing open, just milliseconds after izaya steps back to avoid being hit. he's smirking, _he's pissed,_ he could dance, _he could uproot the floor._

 _“shizu-chan, what brings you here tonight?_ ” izaya asks in mock surprise, eyes running over shizuo’s form, delightfully taking in how angry he looks. _“ah… did shizu-chan get angry again?”_

orihara izaya is the only one brave to take a step closer to a _pissed as hell_ heiwajima shizuo instead of two back. in fact, he takes another step, and then a third; three steps to cross the distance, three steps for him to smirk, look up at shizuo, hooks a finger around shizuo’s necktie.

_“don’t tell me… was it the woman in the park? shizu-chan’s jealous? shizu-chan thinks i’d leave him for a woman like her?”_

_“well…”_

izaya gives his dramatic shrug, sighs and steps back.

_“she is human… and as you know, i love all humans.”_

_“but shizu-chan…”_

he trails off and he smirks, eyes crinkle with his smirk knowingly.

these are the times when izaya drives him absolutely _mad._

shizuo can’t listen to him anymore. he can’t, he just can’t; words have never been shizuo’s forte. izaya reigns in terms of words. izaya is a mastermind and he is almost disgustingly charismatic. words are his domain. words are his playthings and izaya is very good with them.

shizuo can’t listen to him anymore. he can’t, he just can’t, so he steps forward and kisses izaya so hard that it hurts, so hard that it bruises, so hard that it feels as though there is almost no love. 

a kiss devoid of love.

a kiss filled with pure, raw, genuine passion.

shizuo grabs izaya’s faces and navigates him until he can press him roughly to a wall, hears a breathy gasp. there’s already blood, he can taste, from teeth and tongues lapping desperately. shizuo kisses him like he needs air and izaya’s hands are already under his shirt, leaving scratches that will just disappear entirely by the next morning. 

these are the times when izaya drives him absolutely _mad._

the apartment is filled with only sounds of gasps and breaths; no more words are spoken that night. shizuo’s had enough of words and he makes sure izaya doesn’t have a single chance to utter anything besides his name. 

dried blood and dark bruises and fresh scratches are bright on izaya’s skin afterwards. izaya already sees the white and pink marks beginning to fade on shizuo’s body, yet is pleased that a few dark purple ones remain.

he’s smirking and is half on top of shizuo. his heart is racing, _his skin is so warm_ , he takes the unlit cigarette and tosses it away, _he makes a face and growls._ izaya looks down on him, _he looks down and shizuo is looking up_ , and then speaks:

_“shizu-chan’s so jealous… what a kid.”_

shizuo grunts and closes his eyes, feels izaya’s dry lips graze his jaw.

(izaya whispers: _what a child._ )

(izaya adds: _did shizu-chan realize? he and his younger self are still the same..._ )

(izaya should really stop, but it's izaya, so he doesn't.)

(izaya finishes: _you still hate yourself.)_

and then it’s like something snaps; they’ve barely been still for five—ten, if they’re lucky—minutes and shizuo flips them over, is kissing him roughly again, hands all over izaya’s body because _he just can’t keep them to himself._ izaya is infuriating; izaya can find buttons and he pushes them for his own fun, his own delight, pushes and pushes and pushes until something, _someone_ , has to suffer the consequences.

(and if shizuo suffers, izaya will too.)

these are the times when izaya drives him absolutely _mad._

 **storge:** _an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity._

heiwajima shizuo decides that there is no way in hell he could have ever become friends with orihara izaya. it isn’t just their first meeting—whether prompted by izaya or shinra, shizuo doesn’t care—but it’s because that gut feeling will never disappear.

shizuo felt it the first time he saw izaya through the raira window, the boy with the smirk and middle school uniform, standing out among the sea of blue and white. he got a bad feeling.

a _bad, bad, bad_ feeling.

and even now, shizuo has that _bad_ feeling in the pit of his stomach. the _bad_ feeling that orihara izaya is _bad_ and he shouldn’t be associated with.

even on the good days, when they’re just quiet and together. when they’re happy, when they should be content, shizuo feels it. a _bad_ feeling.

and then the normal days, days where nothing extraordinary happens. days where shizuo doesn’t even talk to izaya but thinking of him, just the mere though, gives him a _bad_ feeling.

strangely enough, it’s on the bad days, the days where they fight and yell and hurt each other, those are the days where the bad feeling is covered up. but that’s because things are bad and shizuo sees that izaya is _bad._

orihara izaya and heiwajima shizuo could have never become friends.

not in this universe.

(not ever. despite what he thinks because if circumstances had been different, as long as _izaya is izaya_ then they _cannot be friends_.)

but just because they’re not friends doesn’t mean they aren’t one in the same.

it’s the way shizuo _always_ comes back after every fight and the way izaya lets him, how the door is always unlocked, how izaya doesn’t throw another taunt, even though they both know orihara izaya is an ocean of cruelty.

it’s the way after a fight, a bad fight but not bad enough for shizuo to walk out, only for him to sleep on the couch, izaya will ignore him until he’s fallen asleep and then shizuo will _always_ wake up with a blanket over him.

it’s the way how no matter what is said, no matter what is broken, no matter what expression is shown, they will always, _always_ go back to one another.

it’s the way that somehow, there will _always_ be enough days for the wounds to be buried and they go back to how they were.

it’s the way how izaya doesn’t have to sugarcoat himself, how he throws daggers, knowing shizuo’s heart isn’t something that breaks and recovers stronger.

it’s the way how shizuo constantly hears ‘ _shizuo, you are such a child’_ but never changes, doesn’t want to change, not if being an adult means being like izaya.

it’s the way how izaya has never verbally apologized, only shown it with actions and silence, but shizuo still takes him back.

it’s the way how shizuo remembers his first love, how he hurt her so badly, and looks at his second one, remembers how innocent and pure the first had been, sees how desperate and poisonous the second is.

it’s the way how shizuo ignores the  _bad, bad, bad_ feeling and continues to be _very, very, very_ much in love with orihara izaya. heiwajima shizuo doesn’t half ass the things he’s serious about and he’s incredibly, incredibly serious about love. all or nothing; sometimes he wins, sometimes he loses, but he’s always in.

 _“shizu-chan,”_ shizuo hears behind him, _“smoking again?”_

shizuo grunts and blows a smoke ring.

_“addiction’s a bitch.”_

(they know he doesn’t just mean nicotine.)

 **ludus:** _a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest; may have multiple partners at once._

izaya didn’t start out being exclusive, but shizuo did.

_“it’s fine, shizu-chan. really. go ahead. i won’t mind.”_

shizuo catches izaya one day when he comes over unannounced, uses a key izaya’s given him to walk in. but he knows something’s wrong; the smell in the apartment is heavy, the blinds are closed, the air feels stifled and shizuo knows this smell.

it’s sex.

shizuo is hurt but he doesn’t show it. but closing doors when pissed isn’t shizuo’s specialty, so izaya shows up that night at his apartment, explains that they’d never _specified_ to commit to one another, that shizuo was _overreacting,_ that shizuo is just a _high school romantic._

( _what is this? not a relationship, surely… as if shizu-chan and i could actually be in a relationship! ridiculous!)_

izaya's word choice echoes.

( _ridiculous! ridiculous! ridiculous!_ )

izaya’s cruel, cold, biting words are drowned out when shizuo slams the door shut in his face.

shizuo ignores him at first but the next night goes out to a bar, needs alcohol and chatter so he stops hearing izaya in his head. he’s not especially good at flirting, but he is attractive and people recognize him. because he is, after all, hanejima yuhei’s brother. because he was, after all, also approached by a talent scout. because, he is, after all, a good looking man.

he finds a nice woman, seems to be in her early thirties. she’s not too drunk and shizuo nods when she invites him over—probably a tourist, he thinks dryly—and he gets as far as kissing her before he pulls back and apologizes, gives no reason and leaves promptly. he ignores her as he redresses, he ignores her as he leaves; he ignores her because _she isn’t izaya._

(shizuo realizes he can't do this.)

because shizuo isn’t izaya. 

shizuo doesn’t see this  _thing_ with izaya as just another item to collect. he doesn’t see this as a strategic move, or level, or quest. he sees this  _thing_ as a  _relationship,_ he sees this  _thing_ as  _commitment,_ he sees this  _thing_ as something real.

orihara izaya treats everything like a game and heiwajima shizuo refuses to be a piece, even if he’s the king.

he tells izaya that night. he calls him, he says the words, he hangs up.

_“all or nothing. i’m not playing games.”_

a week later, izaya shows up at shizuo’s apartment, looks at him tiredly—slightly annoyed—and sighs.

_“i’m yours.”_

he turns to leave after just two words but hesitates, pulls something out of his pocket and tosses it to shizuo, is gone by the time shizuo’s processed what it was:

a keyring.

_…that’s right._

shizuo remembers and digs in his pocket, takes out the small item he forgot about, the item he used all the time without a second thought, the item that he didn’t quite realize held another promise.

_he gave me his key._

**eros:** _a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love._

they didn’t leave shizuo’s apartment for a week and heiwajima shizuo has gotten used to yagiri namie seeing him half naked. for a week, neither man steps out and izaya uses his _personal_ secretary to bring them food. shizuo’s kitchen is poorly stocked and neither think they could stand an hour of being appropriate in public and fully clothed.

(they're acting like animals, namie has commented.)

shizuo wonders briefly why namie is so impassive to seeing izaya shirtless and ridden with marks, but he thinks it might just be her personality when he sees her expression remain stoic the morning he walked out of the bathroom entirely naked.

izaya had come over because he was bored and hasn’t left since. their sweaty bodies are tangled in shizuo’s sheets, writhing on top of his slightly lumpy mattress. a window is cracked open and some of shizuo’s neighbors pound at the wall, but it doesn’t deter them; if anything, izaya, _that bastard,_ delights in it and is even more vocal, just to piss them off.

(shizuo knows for a fact that izaya isn’t this vocal with everyone.

but there’s never been a time where izaya’s managed to be silent while with him.)

izaya’s beautiful, shizuo thinks as he runs his tongue and hands all over the informant’s body. he’s beautiful, with his lithe frame and black hair, his red eyes and pale skin. he’s beautiful, the way he looks so _delicate_ and yet he’s so strong. strong in a different way, strong in a way that’s so easy to break.

heiwajima shizuo could break izaya at any moment and the fact that izaya trusts him not to turns him on.

he encourages shizuo’s behavior; nails scratch and bite at shizuo’s skin and fingers pull at his hair as he gasps _more, harder, faster_ breathlessly into shizuo’s ear. he tries to coax shizuo as close as he can to _letting go_ , assures him that izaya’s _able to handle it._

_“shizu-chan, i want you.”_

_“all of you.”_

a week of raw passion, of something neither of them are willing to admit is love. a week of bare bodies pressing to each other, of hair grabbing and moaning, of skin to furniture and walls and counter. a week of very little talking—because it’s izaya’s talking that pisses shizuo off the most—a week of hurricanes, of whirlwinds followed by serenity, alternating, cycling.

shizuo wants to fill izaya up with himself. he wants izaya to never, ever forget that he is with shizuo, that he is shizuo’s. he wants to be the one to satisfy him, make him feel _good,_ leave him breathless, mute, unable to do anything except lay beneath him.

shizuo wants izaya; he wants all of izaya. he wants izaya to himself, he wants everything izaya can offer and then some. he wants _everything_ ; he’s greedy when it comes to izaya and he knows izaya’s the same and shizuo will oblige.

he will give himself to izaya, all of himself, everything he has to offer and then some.

shizuo wants to pour all of himself into izaya,

(because filling someone else up

is so much easier than

filling himself.)

 **agape:** _selfless altruistic love; spiritual._

there are things shizuo is afraid to ask izaya. there are things shizuo knows he is better off not knowing; there are things that if he knows, he cannot look at izaya the same way again.

 _“shizu-chan, ignorance is bliss, no?”_ izaya had murmured the first time shizuo dared to bring up a question. it isn’t often shizuo simply lets things go, but he does this time, without arguing. because sometimes izaya is right, unfortunately, sometimes he is right and sometimes shizuo should just wordlessly do as he says, what his words imply, read between what he says.

shizuo knows he would do anything for izaya. shizuo would do absolutely anything, give up everything; it’s unhealthy, it’s desperate, it comes from a place of loneliness that shouldn’t motivate anything. shizuo doesn’t want to lose izaya, shizuo will do everything for izaya.

heiwajima shizuo gives himself entirely into love and it is not as beautiful as one would imagine.

he would give everything,

(but he feels izaya would return nothing.)

* * *

_“izaya.”_

_“yes?”_

_“…never mind.”_

* * *

there are things that make izaya who he is. there are characteristics that make someone who he is, characteristics that, if lost, could mean someone losing part of an identity.

orihara izaya is _selfish_ and heiwajima shizuo understands that…

…izaya thinks of himself…

…izaya prioritizes himself…

…izaya keeps everything for himself…

…and if izaya loses his selfishness, on one hand, he could become selfless, selfless like shizuo…

…but on the other hand, if izaya loses his selfishness, he could let go of things, let go of things that he eventually tires of, lets go of

heiwajima shizuo.

* * *

_“shizu-chan?”_

* * *

sometimes shizuo forgets that aside from passion, aside from intensity, aside from potency, there is another reason they are so desperately devoted to each other. something that transcends everything, something that humans cannot be rid of, something that helps human survive.

fear.

* * *

_“yeah?”_

* * *

they’re bounded by a fear of being alone.

* * *

_“…shizu-chan is mine.”_

it means

_shizu-chan, don’t leave me._

* * *

_“…never.”_

it means

_i have nowhere else._

* * *

_love makes us human, right?_

* * *

heiwajima shizuo is six kinds of in love with orihara izaya.

**Author's Note:**

> the last (i think) of reuploads from tumblr with minor revisions. thank you for reading, kudos and comments are much appreciated!


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